Chapter Eight – Sarah
As Sarah helped decorate the huge Christmas tree, she was slowly falling in love with this new life she’d started in Bear Creek. And maybe she was falling a little in love with the local tree farmer, too.
The lights cast a warm glow across his face, highlighting the small crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. And boy, did he smile a lot.
He was one of the happiest people she’d ever met. Filled with a childlike wonder for the season.
He was always there to help out, whether it was untangling lights, helping a child reach a higher branch, or simply sharing a joke or a kind word of encouragement.
Sarah found herself watching Michael more than the tree, the way his large, careful hands secured ornaments to branches, how he crouched down to Emmy’s level when she asked for help reaching higher spots.
There was something about Michael’s smile that gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling despite the cool night air. It wasn’t just polite or professional, no, it always reached his eyes, sometimes a little shy, but always genuine.
Once or twice, she’d caught him stealing glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, before quickly turning his attention back to whatever ornament he was hanging.
Maybe he felt the same strange pull she did. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Sarah pressed her lips together, forcing herself to focus on the bauble in her hand. She was newly divorced and vulnerable. That’s all this was.
Perhaps subconsciously, she was simply after male attention to prove she was still desirable, still worthy of love after Liam had made her feel so utterly replaceable.
But what did it matter anyway? Emmy was the most important person in her world now. Sarah didn’t intend to parade a string of boyfriends through her daughter’s life, creating more instability when Emmy had already weathered so much change.
Though if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t thinking about a string of boyfriends. Just one. Michael North.
“Are you okay?” Pat asked.
Sarah jumped, nearly dropping the glass bauble she’d been absently turning in her hands. She hadn’t realized her mother was standing beside her, watching her face with knowing eyes.
“Yes,” Sarah said, her voice breathless. She cleared her throat. “I was just trying to decide where to hang this.” She held up the bauble, a blue glass ball with silver swirls that caught the light.
“Uh-huh,” Pat said with a raised eyebrow, her gaze drifting to Michael, who was watching them from across the tree but quickly looked away when he realized he’d been caught. Pat’s expression was far too knowing for Sarah’s comfort.
“Emmy’s enjoying herself,” Sarah said, changing the subject.
Pat smiled indulgently as they both watched Emmy and Maisie hanging glittering snowflakes on the tree. “She is. It’s so good to see her so happy.” Pat squeezed Sarah’s hand. “She deserves it.” Her voice softened. “And so do you.”
Tears pricked Sarah’s eyes unexpectedly. She focused on hanging the bauble through a mist of tears, blinking rapidly. The last thing she needed was to start crying in the middle of the town square, surrounded by people she barely knew.
“Mulled wine?” A middle-aged woman with warm eyes and a bright smile offered them each a steaming cup.
“Thanks, Cassia,” Pat said, accepting a cup. “This is my daughter, Sarah.”
“Good to meet you, Sarah.” Cassia handed the second cup to Sarah.
“Thanks, you, too,” Sarah said, grateful for the distraction as she accepted the cup. “This smells heavenly.”
Cassia smiled as she looked up toward the top of the tree, where the star would soon be placed. “Much like the North family providing the tree, the mulled wine is a Thornberg tradition, not that I’ve ever been a part of it. This is my first Christmas in Bear Creek.”
“It is?” Sarah asked, sipping the wine. The spiced warmth spread through her chest, easing some of the tightness there.
“Yes, I moved here earlier in the year,” Cassia replied.
“Cassia fell in love with a Thornberg,” Pat interjected, then added with a wink, “love has been in the air for the Thornbergs this year.”
Cassia chuckled. “It has. And the family has grown, with a few grandchildren added to the ranch and the vineyard.” She stroked her belly gently, and Sarah noticed for the first time the slight curve there. “It’s been a blessed year.”
Sarah felt a jolt of longing so intense it surprised her. She had always wanted another child, a brother or sister for Emmy. The timing had never been right with Liam. Now that dream seemed further away than ever.
“We should catch up over coffee sometime, Sarah,” Cassia said. “Or a cinnamon spice latte.”
“I’d like that,” Sarah replied. If she were going to settle here, she wanted to make new friends. And it would be good to trade stories with another newcomer to the town.
“Great,” Cassia said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more mulled wine to hand out.”
Sarah sipped her wine and stepped back, taking in the seasonal scene unfolding before her as the Christmas tree was transformed.
Children darted between adults, their laughter rising above the gentle murmur of conversation.
Strings of lights glowed against the darkening sky, reflecting off ornaments both new and old.
And there was Michael, his tall figure moving with that careful grace that seemed at odds with his size, helping an elderly man hang a wooden star near the top of the tree. He said something Sarah couldn’t hear, and the old man threw his head back in laughter.
The town square felt like a Christmas card come to life, all warm colors against the blue-black of night, movement and stillness in perfect balance.
For the first time in months, Sarah felt a sense of rightness settle over her.
This place, these people, this moment…it all fit together in a way that made her chest ache with unexpected happiness.
“Mom!” Emmy called, rushing over with flushed cheeks. “Michael says they’re going to put the star on top soon. Can we stay and watch?”
“Of course we can,” Sarah said, rubbing Emmy’s back. “Just don’t wander too far.”
“I won’t. I’m going to stand with Maisie and Teddy,” Emmy announced importantly. “They saved me a spot.”
Sarah watched her daughter run back to her new friends, marveling at how quickly Emmy had found her place here. Children were resilient that way, open to new connections in a way adults often struggled to be.
“She fits right in,” Michael said quietly, appearing at Sarah’s side with his own cup of mulled wine.
“She does,” Sarah agreed, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach at his nearness. “Thank you for making her feel so welcome.”
“It’s easy,” Michael said, his eyes warm as they met hers. “She’s a special kid.”
“She is,” Sarah agreed.
A comfortable silence settled between them as they watched the final preparations for the lighting ceremony. Sarah could feel the heat of him beside her, solid and steady in the cold night air.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Michael said suddenly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Sarah looked up at him, something unspoken passing between them. “I’m glad, too.”
The crowd quieted as the mayor’s voice rang out across the square. “Almost time, everyone! Gather round!”
Michael shifted slightly beside Sarah, and his arm brushed against hers.
The contact sent a jolt through her body that had nothing to do with the wine.
Heat bloomed where they touched, spreading up her arm and across her chest. Her breath caught in her throat as the warmth ignited something deeper, something she’d almost forgotten existed.
She swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. The cold air seemed to vanish between them, replaced by a shared warmth that made her skin tingle. When she glanced up at him, his eyes reflected the glow of the Christmas lights, dark and intent.
“Ten!” the crowd began counting down. “Nine! Eight!”
Sarah couldn’t look away from him. The noise around them faded to a distant hum as her focus narrowed to the gentle pressure of his arm against hers, the scent of pine and winter air that clung to him.
“Seven! Six! Five!”
She felt his fingers brush against hers, tentative. Without thinking, she shifted her hand, allowing their fingers to touch more deliberately.
“Four! Three! Two! ONE!”
The massive tree blazed to life, thousands of tiny lights illuminating the square in a warm golden glow.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, its collective voice rising into the night sky.
Sarah barely registered the spectacle, her attention fixed on the gentle pressure of Michael’s hand now firmly against hers.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, and she wasn’t sure if he meant the tree or something else entirely.
Mayor Wilson stepped forward, hands raised for quiet. “Thank you all for coming tonight for our unofficial tree lighting! Remember, the official ceremony is tomorrow at six, with carols from the choir and hot chocolate for everyone. But I couldn’t resist giving our magnificent tree an early debut.”
More cheers followed, but Sarah barely heard them. The mayor’s voice continued, thanking volunteers and sponsors, but the words washed over her without sticking.
Without conscious thought, Sarah leaned slightly into Michael’s solid frame. He responded immediately, his body shifting to accommodate hers as if they’d been designed to fit together. No words passed between them, but Sarah felt the weight of a thousand unspoken things in the air.
“Mom! Mom!” Emmy’s voice broke through the bubble surrounding them. “You have to see the star from over here! It looks different!”
Sarah turned reluctantly as Emmy tugged at her hand, pulling her away from Michael’s warmth. She glanced back at him, catching the same wistful longing in his eyes that she felt in her chest, a reluctance to break whatever spell had been woven around them.
“Come on!” Emmy insisted, dragging Sarah to the other side of the square.
“It does look different from here,” Sarah admitted, trying to focus on the massive star atop the tree. Emmy was right. From this angle, the light caught the facets differently, creating a starburst pattern against the night sky.
Pat joined them, her arm slipping around Sarah’s waist. “Quite the spectacle, isn’t it?”
Emmy pointed upward, explaining to Pat in great detail why this view was superior. Sarah half-listened, her attention drifting back across the square to where Michael stood talking with Daniel, James, and Christopher. As if sensing her gaze, he looked up, their eyes meeting across the distance.
Around them, the crowd had begun to disperse, families heading home with sleepy children, couples walking hand-in-hand toward Main Street’s cafés and shops.
“I think it’s time we headed home, too,” Sarah said, noticing Emmy’s slowing movements and the way she leaned against Pat’s side.
“But we just got here,” Emmy protested, though the yawn that followed undermined her argument.
“We’ve been here for two hours, sweet pea,” Sarah corrected gently. “And we’ve got our own beautiful tree waiting at home.”
They said their goodbyes, and Sarah felt a pang of disappointment when she couldn’t spot Michael in the dispersing crowd. They were halfway down Maple Street when the first snowflakes began to fall, delicate crystals drifting lazily through the glow of the streetlights.
“I told you snow was coming,” Pat said with satisfaction, tilting her face upward.
Emmy immediately copied the gesture, her mouth open to catch snowflakes. “I can smell it!” she declared, inhaling deeply. “It smells like...like cold magic!”
Sarah laughed, tucking Emmy’s hand more securely in hers. “Cold magic, huh? That’s a perfect description.”
By the time they reached Pat’s house, the snow was falling more steadily, dusting their coats and hats with a fine layer of white. Inside, their own Christmas tree greeted them, its lights twinkling in welcome—the same warm glow she’d seen in Michael’s eyes.
Emmy’s energy flagged quickly once they were home. After hot chocolate was enjoyed on a rug at the foot of their Christmas tree, Sarah guided her sleepy daughter toward the stairs.
“Will you tell me a story?” Emmy asked sleepily.
Sarah smiled. “Of course.”
After tucking Emmy in and spinning a tale about a snow fairy who collected lost mittens, Sarah kissed her daughter’s forehead. Emmy was already half-asleep, her eyelids heavy.
“Night, Mom,” she murmured. “I like it here.”
“Me, too, sweet pea,” Sarah whispered. “Me, too.”
She found Pat in the kitchen, washing out their cocoa mugs.
“I think I’ll turn in,” Pat said. “Are you coming up soon?”
Sarah shook her head. “I thought I’d work on some designs for a bit. Can’t sleep yet.”
Pat’s knowing smile made Sarah blush. “Designs for a certain tree farm, perhaps?”
“It’s a good opportunity,” Sarah defended, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. “For my portfolio.”
“Mm-hmm,” Pat hummed, clearly unconvinced. She kissed Sarah’s cheek before heading upstairs. “Don’t stay up too late, dear.”
Alone in the quiet house, Sarah made herself a fresh cup of cocoa and settled at the dining room table with her laptop. She pulled up a blank document and typed “North Peak Pines: Flyers” at the top, trying to approach the project professionally.
But as she worked, sketching rough layouts and jotting notes about color schemes, her mind kept wandering to the feeling of Michael’s arm against hers, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. She found herself designing with him in mind.
What would he like? What would make him smile that smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes?
Sarah sighed, resting her chin in her hand as she stared at her screen. She could pretend all she wanted that this was about showcasing her design skills, but the truth was embarrassingly simple: she was looking for an excuse to see Michael North again.
And judging by the way he’d looked at her tonight, he might be hoping for the same thing.